Simple Light
by BlueIrish
Summary: The Fierce Deity. The Demon of Termina. Darkness encased him years ago, blackening his heart and closing his mind. Known for his vicious behavior and lack of patience for others, out shines the light of a child. -Occasional Dark Themes
1. Wicker

It is nearly impossible to say you had a difficult life if you can't remember any of it. If I put my will to it, the earliest that I can conjure is a field on the outskirts of Termina with an insurmountable rage. There was no one to greet me and soothe my fury, leaving my overwhelming emotion free. Havoc ensued of course.

Wondering 'what if's?' of your possible family aren't pleasant. It's like an expectation that 'so far' no one can even begin to sate, a burning question unanswerable.

I can't remember them at all. Who are my kin? Are there other deities?

What were they like? Did I fit the mold with everyone? Or was I an outcast? Did I even _have _a family? ... Did they leave me to die?

Maybe I'm just a singular gift of the gods.

These questions seem to plague me frequently. All I have of my past is a pathetically small blue ocarina in my hands. I don't know why, but it's precious to me. So I hold it dearly for hope that my past might surface. But all I can do is wait for them.

I am separated from those around me. I'm not like them. I'm the 'Freak' of the town. A dangerous curiosity.

I also have a constant craving to maim, humiliate, murder. To rule. Clearly this darkness is a part of me.

Yet I wish it were not.

I can't help it. My being feels to progress as such. Why do I fight it? Why bother? I am a demigod. I am initially 'right' in whatever endeavor I damn well please.

All of which is leaving me in a limbo, I simply exist. My hate reined in. All because something small is making its mark in my soul. Fighting to the end. Like a drop of white ink in black water. Utterly pointless.

All that is left is for time to remove it.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

A burly carpenter trudged through the warm town of Wicker, Wicker was a solid twenty minute hard ride south east on horseback from the country's capital, Clock Town. So it was warm and buggy. But was a nature trade hub and jumping off point for commerce in and outside of the country.

And with it, a constant demand for craftsmen, farmers, and carpenters to meet the town's growth, such was why William Lakewood lived in Wicker with his family.

His hands shoved in his trouser pockets. He was an unremarkable man, black hair short to his scalp, his face almost naturally frowning. His clothes weren't very expensive, but passable in middle society. In each step there was a constant tension in his shoulders. Like he was ready to pounce on even the tiniest of opposition. But that was how William survived his youth, by being tough and not letting even the smallest soul slight him. In turn, he was a hard man who was used to being listened to.

And the one person who could never get it through their damn head to really _listen _to him… was his opposite as well as his blood, nine year old Fydra Lakewood.

He paused for a moment and glanced back impatiently. "Hurry up, Fydra." He said curtly.

Only a meek, "Coming!" resonated behind him as a young girl in a plain dress ran up with all the enthusiasm that came with being nine. Leaving behind a quant crafts shop off the main dirt road. A huge smile plastered on her face despite the older ones mood.

It was like that often, he thought irritated, she was completely oblivious to events around her, except for what was interesting to _her_. Nothing he seemed to _do_ ever had an effect on her. And she was as flighty as a finch at times.

She had gained that trait from her mother.

The man turned forward when she approached and continued on his way. Annoyed, "When I say we are leaving-" he ended his words exasperatedly, "-you _leave, _Fydra."

The young girl shrunk a little. Then quietly said"...'kay."

He paused and gave a hard look towards her. Expectant.

The brown haired girl straightened quickly with a small squeak and sputtered out, "Y-yes father."

There was an uneasy silence for the young green eyed girl as she watched her much bigger father.

The carpenter sighed and spoke again, "Good." He said simply. Then he continued on his 'not-so-merry' way, clearly expecting Fydra to keep up despite their stride difference.

"You're a lady, hon. And you must speak to me and those around you with respect." He said chidingly.

"Yes father." She said tonelessly, confirming.

William pursed his lips, even when she _did_ listen to him, it was irritating. Her tone and body language spoke utter submission, but he knew, KNEW that whatever he was saying was going out the other ear. Plus to see his own blood react so… weakly, left a bad taste in his mouth.

But she _was_ his blood none-the-less. So he had to deal with her and her short attention span, her spontaneous remarks, her infuriating tendency to wander, and talking to her… goddess! The questions never end! And never ask her about her hobbies! Unless you want to be put in a solid two hour sleep.

But she was his responsibility. Whether he liked it or not.

"Respect is something that every child must know of- " And he continued his spontaneous lecture while walking off around market with young Fydra.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

Her father continued to talk about respect, appearances, and paying attention. But her eyes were elsewhere with interest. Already starting to tune out her aggressive father. He continued to talk, but Fydra gradually paid more attention to the buzz of the crowd around them. Watching the life of the town move about in its day to day tasks. It was one of her favorite things to do really. People watch. The current most interesting sight not twenty feet away.

In the mist of the warm sun, and by the famous willow trees around town, the sight of her curiosity was solidly holding her attention. The butcher was tending to some unknown meat, stuffing them in a _stone_ box with one layer over another with salt in between. And a _massive_ off brown and black goron; with a smile on his face not unlike that of a satisfied cat. Rocks were speckling his brow and back. A literal _mountain _of a creature.

She knew the gorons were thought of as friendly, but other than that, she had rarely seen one. "Who the heck would put meat in a stone box? Why not wood?" She thought aloud. And by not paying attention, she had unintentionally cut off her father's words.

"Fydra, don't interrupt me!" He barked turning his head.

Jolting her from her young thoughts, "Huh?" startled, and slowly realized she was in trouble again.

"Fydra, NEVER interrupt an adult who is talking to you. Do you understand?" he said, raising his voice.

Fydra got a bit smaller that moment. "Yes."

He continued, and strangely seemed to enjoy the lecture. "I'm sick and tired of having to correct you all the…"

"-WAOH!" The girl interrupted, she shouted in outright wonder. Her green eyes massive as if she witnessed one of the coolest things in the world.

In a sense, she did.

The goron from before just took a huge chomp on the stone box, and it gave way like a fragile egg shell to his teeth. Exposing the tended meat inside. It was like a giant rock sandwich!

Her father blinked dumbfound, his mouth barely able to shape words in outrage. "I _just _got done telling you about interru-!"

But the young girl had already left his side with a run, curiosity brimming in her eyes.

She trudged up to the goron, and he was _far _larger than any human she had ever met. She stopped at his side and had to crane her neck to look him in the face.

The mountain creature glanced down in much the same fashion of one to a curious animal. "Oh..?" He spoke much like how a rock would. With a big breathy deepness and –pun intended- gravel voice. "What have we here?" He gave her a huge goron grin, his maw probably wide enough to eat her in one bite had he chose too.

Fydra smiled triumphantly and spoke up to the black brown rock creature. "I'm Fydra, and I'm nine!" with as much dignity a child can give. Then without waiting any further… "How de' heck did you DO that!?" She asked enthused.

The goron blinked his black set eyes. "You mean eat?" he asked bewildered. Then added, "Oh right… you normally don't eat rocks..." His spare hand going to his chin in deep contemplation while the other holding the half eaten rock case like that of a pastry.

He gave her his attention again, "You should give it a shot, you don't know what you're missing." He finished with a high note.

Fydra scrunched up her face, "We can't eat rocks, at least I don't think so…"

To ruin the fun, her father stepped in suddenly and cut the conversation short.

He grabbed her hand and nearly dragged her away while calling out apologies to the mountain man. His grip firm.

Fydra started to grunt out, "Ow! Ooow, that hurts! Lemme' go!"

But her father didn't until they were in an alleyway out of sight between two shop stalls.

Fydra looked up to his angry face, and stupidly she spoke out, "Father, why'd you do tha-?"

Then his hand shot out and across her face with a resonating, 'Pap!'

Shocked into silence. A slow welling of tears came from the child's face. She gingerly brought a hand to her cheek to sooth the stinging flesh.

The burly carpenter father looked smug, "Not fun getting interrupted, is it?"

Fydra mutely shook her head 'no'.

The black hair man kept up his glare. "Stop your piddling."

She couldn't stop her tears, but she gave it her best. She gave a sniff, but her whimpers' continued into low moans.

The man sighed and thought to himself briefly. Then said with a lighter tone, "Look, how about we go for some sweet bread and forget the whole thing?"

Fydra slowly composed herself, but otherwise gave a meek smile. "That sounds good… father." She remembered to add that last word like she was taught, hopefully make him proud.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

A good hour later, when the two of them were heading home. They came across an unusually large throng of people in their way to the main intersecting road in Wicker.

The girl blinked. _'What's all the hula-balu about?' _

Her and her father trudged up to the path, the girl made sure to hold onto his hand like he taught her. The crowd murmured loudly amongst themselves. She could hardly hear herself think as she looked on. At first her only sight was the wall of people, wondering with fierce curiosity of just _what _they were staring at.

Fydra's only sign of all the attention was the sight of a massive worn boot crushing the red brown earth beneath them as they strolled down the street. Everyone seemed to give him space despite their obvious dislike of the man.

Fydra tugged out of her father's hand without thought, and danced around side to side to find a proper hole to look through.

She finally found one in between a pair of waist, and actually gasped aloud at the sight.

There was a monstrous man. He was easily as tall as the goron from before. He wore a strange white long pointy hat. It sat proudly on top of his stark white hair. A white and dark purple tunic hugged his form. There was also a blade set on his back. She only spied the handle and the point of it down by his calves.

Though it was his _eyes_ that distracted her. There was nothing in them. Not a 'lack of expression' but _literally _nothing, no pupil, no iris… just a stare of soul crushing focus framed by intense blue and red facial markings.

She instantly felt a pang of sympathy towards the man, she was always a bit of a romantic believer in 'eyes are the doorways to the soul.' However if she followed that saying right now… it would seem as if _THIS _man hadn't one.

She looked up to her father, and his stare was one she wasn't too used to seeing, and it put her on edge.

His features were dark, and he actually seemed to strain his frown, even though he was easily the best frowner Fydra had ever met. His eyes _locked _onto the strange man in the road.

"Do somethin', William!" Someone said to him. Fydra blinked. Do what?

He grunted, "No, he'll get his just deserves. Goddesses wouldn't allow it any other way."

The nine year old frowned in thought. It wasn't often she got to go to town with her father, and she normally didn't much care for what weird stuff adults talked about in their free time. But she didn't have the slightest clue for their anger towards this interesting man.

But then the monstrous white eyed person turned, and continued his measured stride to whatever destination he meant to reach… right towards Fydra and her father!

She could feel the crowd around her tense, and for the most part they parted. With the exception of perhaps the most willed and unreasonably hard browed person she knew, her father.

Which left him and Fydra alone; leaving them strangely staged in front of everyone's eyes.

The tall white haired man stopped easily and brought his hollow eyes down to the man standing stubbornly in his way. His presence was…. overwhelming. Even her father stiffened.

Fydra felt the individual focus of every person present staring on, Fydra shifted behind her daddy, and hooked her hand onto her father's wrist, his hand was too busy being clamped shut into a tight fist.

The ostracised giant spoke, with an empty expressionless face, "Move."

It was as if a god had spoken down from a thundercloud. In that one word, he had underlined the shear weakness of anyone around him. But most of all, Fydra felt the _hate_ her father exuded. Hated this… strange deity for the fear he felt. Helplessness he was unused to feeling.

Fydra should have felt concern for her daddy. But what she was feeling and what she _should_ have felt were entirely different.

Instead, there was utter innocent curiosity.

Everyone in town seemed to despise this man, and logic has it that she should avoid him like the plague. But _something_ about him was… not as hateful as everyone knew. She had absolutely NO reason to believe it, but her insistent naive nine year old mind kept tugging at it, why be afraid of him? Cause' he _looked _different? What in the heck did he _do _to get everyone's undergarments in a bind?

And an ignorant and innocent part of her wondered if all he needed, was someone to talk to.

And Fydra loved to talk.

Her thoughts broke off when her father spoke with a gruff, "No."

This time, the young green eyed girl stiffened, even she knew a confrontation would explode if neither of these crazy people gave way to one another. Never mind that there was plenty of space for the white haired man to walk around. Fydra realized that this … huge guy, held the same sort of unyielding strength her father did.

The deity didn't even respond in words, he simply continued his graceful stride towards them, his mere presence ensuring everyone in sight knew his integral lethality. His stony glare gave way to the first set of emotion Fydra had seen, it was as if death himself was finally irritated enough to leave his throne to deal with an old nuisance.

The girl gulped audibly, and she was certain so had her father.

But her daddy stepped into a sturdy stance and geared his features into a potent glare. Fydra actually had the foresight to step back away from this, her own statue made her pretty much invisible to this clash.

She watched from the side, the deity like man strode forward. Her father, William brought up his hands expecting to hold ground for as long as possible, his personality and pride wouldn't let him do anything else.

The deity was within arms distance, not stopping his stride, and her daddy's eyes widened and stepped back from the complete disregard. Hate filled his features and he struck out with his fist as the seven foot tall man walked by without any slow.

Next moment in a blink, Fydra felt her face slack in shock and worry. The crowd around her grasped uselessly, and fearful of doing anything else.

William was _slammed _to the ground effortlessly by the white haired giant, she saw her father's head bang off the ground, dust and earth flew up in its sudden impact, and Fydra honestly couldn't tell how in Termina it happened! Just that it had!

"Daddy!" she rushed forward to his crumpled form in the dirt. Worry edged her mind as she went to her knees by him. She almost shouted, but her words were slurred. "Daddy! You ol'ight?" Never in her life had she actually imagined her father EVER being beaten. It was… unusual, unnatural even to her eyes. He was always the unstoppable and… unquestionable authority in her life. To have him tossed aside so easily was unsettling to her.

But it also put a grain of doubt… doubt into something she couldn't describe in words, but it affected her understanding of him.

"Daddy..?" asked again, but he didn't at her, nor respond. Looking closer, a little blood came out of his nose.

She glanced up to the strange powerful man who put her father down like rag doll, but he was already gone.

Suddenly, a few people were around her and her father, looking on with concern. Speaking lowly with concern. One of the onlookers was an older woman with blond hair Fydra had seen before. Probably a co-worker to her father. Beth, was her name if she remembered right.

"Sa'ight darling, he an't dead. Unconscious, and will have one _heluva_ headache later. But he'll be fine." She crouched down with the girl and hefted the knocked out carpenter by his arms. She worked an encouraging smile to the girl, "Why don' you head on home, let your ma know you're okay?"

Beth stood up with a grunt, pulling around a dead weight. "_Help me you, fools!" _she glared accusingly. Two others around rushed to help her. The blond lady looked back to the young nine year old. "Don't you worry about Willy here. We'll have him in the clinic. And he'll be home before ya' know it. Take care, darlin'." But her tone suggested that she wasn't as calm as she acted.

But Fydra appreciated it, she didn't really know what to do in this situation.

"Kay', lets haul him off, damn he's heavy…" They started to wonder off, and the surrounding crowd began to disperse, now that the action had quelled. There was an overall feeling of bewilderment, anger, and helplessness that seemed to stick around.

Fydra nodded meekly to the woman, but a question was burning in her mind that she just couldn't let go. Not after what she saw.

"Hey Beth?"

The woman glanced back, "Yea?"

Fydra started to draw circles in the dirt with her foot. Not sure how to ask such a sensitive topic. She shrugged and decided to just go for it.

"What did he do, that man..?"

Beth snorted, her and her associate shouldered William into a better carrying position. "ya mean _other_ than completely pounding yer' father?"

Fydra nodded shyly.

Beth glanced to her helpers, then back to Fydra with a warning in her features. "He's an outsider, aggressive, weird lookin', and got some pretty… nasty rumors surrounding him."

Fydra blinked, "Rumors? What about personally? What is he like?"

Beth looked on exasperated, "Fydra, your father is unconscious-" She shouldered the man as if to underline the point. "- nor do I have time fer' this. Just stay away from him, kay'?"

And with that, they turned and left. Mumbling to themselves about the recent conflict.

Fydra finally remembered her manners and called after, "Thank ya', mam." And waved them off, still confused.

The crowd had completely dissipated, leaving only those who were present for market business. Leaving nine old Fydra, alone to her own devices.

The girl crossed her arms in thought, thinking about the whole thing. She had no idea that someone could be that… menacing. So quick. So tall. So disliked…. So curious.

She started to walk in thought, not really in any particular direction. Fydra was completely consumed by her thoughts, with no regard to her surroundings.

She still had no idea WHY people disliked the man, she supposed she should have disliked him as well considering the pounding her daddy got. But… she knew, that _her _father had started it. If anything was clear to young Fydra, it was her father that refused to move, and stand in other's way.

Strange that she didn't side with her daddy. Somehow, she wasn't too bothered either. Was it because her mommy always said, "Watch for others intention, sweetheart. Don't get swept up in what everyone ELSE is saying. Think first!"

And if Fydra thought about it, she realized that everyone in town… could be wrong. Even Beth didn't seem to KNOW the white eyed giant.

Fydra broke out of her thoughts when she kicked something beneath her feet, and it skid off ahead of her. The girl blinked, "-wha?"

Then she saw it, a very pretty blue ocarina. She trudged up to it and couched by it, staring at it with deeper concentration than necessary. She reached for it and brought it close to her eyes, immediately she noticed the tight silver band around the mouth piece, the Triforce clearly etched on it.

"oooOOOooo…~" she mewed with wonder.

She stood and quickly looked left and right, then back down to the instrument in her small hands. "Who do you belong to?" She asked.

The ocarina was silent, and looked back patiently. Obviously it was waiting for her to figure it out.

She paused in contemplation, "Do you belong too that- …man?" Glancing around again in search for an owner. But people around her had shown no concern.

Fydra glanced back to the blue trinket,

"Well, best way to find your friend is to search, isn't it?" And she had a strong feeling who that 'friend' was.

She brought her green eyes up, with full determination and a burning sense of curiosity; so the small curious nine year old girl headed down the road alone… the same road the white eyed giant had taken.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

The Fierce Deity carried his town supplies over his shoulder and continued along his path promptly out of Wicker to the outskirts, where his current home was. Despite its long distance from town, he preferred the space from others. And the demigod was positive the townspeople liked it that way, too.

Not that he cared about what a couple of _people _thought. They could have died in some spectacular and horrible end, and he wouldn't have batted an eye.

But if these infernal people didn't start giving him some space, he was going to snap. Whenever they stared at him with such obvious open contempt, his sword arm would subconsciously twitch. But he had to keep that under control.

In all honesty, there really was no reason for him to do so. What were the repercussions? Prison time? Execution? Labor?

Those meant nothing to the Fierce Deity. Because nothing really harmed him, nothing could really _stop _a deity.

But he… couldn't. The demigod just _could not_ kill at random and impose his will, no matter how badly he wanted to. In utter rage, yes. But otherwise… it was as if he had a conscience for others.

It had nothing to do with a _moral_ obligation. The white haired man snorted at that. It was just so… integral to his being. -and he no idea why. Things would be so much easier if he could just remove that part of his brain, and rule everything beneath his boot.

He wanted to.

And he wouldn't allow himself.

He kept clinging to something, not 'preserve life', goddesses no. But not outright destroy it either. He took a deep breath and exhaled with control. He had been contemplating the issue for years. Ever since he grew an awareness of self, he couldn't for the life of him fall into his temptations. He resisted. Sure he had killed people before, _many _people. But those instances were the cause of inevitable confrontation his appearance brought. Not _once_ had he started those, not intentionally at least. Sure, he didn't exactly _diffuse _them either…

But a part of him _wanted_ to hold back, to keep the darkness at bay. Because he felt that there would be something _worth _being at the end of that tunnel. Even though he didn't quite believe it.

Overall, he was just plain confused on his motives.

He reached his small wood home, wedged behind a stand of willow trees that Wicker was famous for. Just how he liked it, out of the way. He jammed his key into the door, unlocked it and strode in. He placed his supplies smoothly onto the floor by the door, and continued to his handmade armchair by the fireplace.

He took off his cap and placed it on the end table, then eased into the comfy chair. His thoughts still wondering.

"37…" He had killed thirty seven people in his memory due to 'confrontations'. Some he got away with, others were a little obvious, like in the middle of Clock Town Square obvious. And each time hostilities arose; he would escape and move to a new location. For the sole purpose of not to be bothered by damn guards. Did they really expect him, _him, _to spend time in jail? He had better things to do with his long life.

Despite his appearance of around 20, the Deity was a bit older than he looked. In that time, he learned experience brought wisdom, and fore-knowledge made that wisdom come easier. So he spent most of his time dabbling in some very 'un-demigod' like activities. Not that anyone _ever_ told him so, he wouldn't have stopped anyway. He enjoyed it too much.

The white eyed man reached to his end table again grabbed the book waiting for his return. He flipped to the dog-eared page and continued reading about Termina's medicinal plants and tincture making. His thoughts focusing on the content. Every now and then he would grab for the feather and ink well next to an unlit melted candle, then cross out a line in the book and rewrite something the author had mistaken.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

'Thump, thump._'_

The pounding on his door jolted the deity awake out of his chair. Dropping his precious book haphazardly onto the wood floor. He blinked his blank eyes awake.

Did someone really just knock on his door?

He reached down for his book and placed it back in its usual place on the end table, he'll have to find his place again. Damn.

There was another knock at his door. 'Thump thump thump…' It was to… subdued to be anything serious, like the guard, or anything of that nature.

The deity glanced out the window to see the sun had set an hours ago, then stared back at the door, as if hoping it would burst into flames. '_Who would bother me? Especially after dark. AND they made me lose my place.' _

He waited patiently, not intending to get up at all. Clearly he wanted to be left alone. Any idiot would know that.

After a long silence, he relaxed a bit and settled back into his chair. They left. Good.

'Thump thump thump thump thump thump-…_' _

He eyes hardened, "Oh for goddesses sake." he seethed. The deity pushed himself out of his chair with an air of pure annoyance. He pulled out one of the many knives sheathed on his person and almost bulled to the entrance.

He unlocked and threw open the door then gave his coldest stare, "What."

But no one was in front of him staring back. He felt his face harden further in trained caution.

"Um… hi." A voice squeaked out, _below him. _

The white eyed man shot his head down to see the unexpected sight before him, his blue and red war tattoos accentuated his hard curiosity.

A small young girl in a plain outdoors dress, stood before him. Alone.

Now. The deity knew that he was not viewed as the friendliest, or for that matter, the _safest_ person to be by.

But apparently this one had no idea. That, or didn't care. And he honestly hadn't the slightest idea as to _why _she was here.

And that was a rarity the deity didn't like feeling at all.

So he did what anyone would do when caught off guard. He stared stupidly at girl, waiting for her move.

Even more awkwardly, she stared stupidly right on back. Like a cornered animal.

There was a silence. The night air was muggy, and the bugs sung out their nightly song. Only the situation underlined their noise.

The deity caught his balance and spoke out ruthlessly, "What do you want?"

It seemed to shake the child out of her stupor, she shook her head and reached for something stashed away in a bag. "I was uh.. wonderin' if this erm.. was… yours?" The demi-god had to do everything he could not to correct the girl's speech.

Then the question registered, and he noted the shiny blue ocarina that was held out in the child's hands.

Not just any blue ocarina. HIS blue ocarina. THE blue ocarina. He abandoned his stony demeanor and felt his face slack. Then he snapped his hand out and grabbed the instrument with haste. The girl exclaimed out in surprised.

The man held his precious ocarina in front of him, inspecting hole for hole, looking for any flaws that may have accumulated in its absence.

He felt his heart rate slow, eventually he closed his eyes and gave a rare sigh of relief. In all of his memory, he had never met someone who went out of their way for him. And so, he had no clue on how to respond.

He opened his empty eyes again to look down at the girl before him. He hadn't expected to see her so intensely staring at him. He blinked, not _just _staring. But staring with utter fascination. Pure delighted curiosity came through her simple features, her eyes drinking in his every detail. Every curve of his tattoos, his white eyes, his stark white hair, his straight nose, his hard jaw… That stare was looking into his _soul._

Never had he expected this. So he shook his head and put back on his emotionless mask. "Thank you."

The girl smiled brightly in actual happiness, "Yep! Hey, is that ocarina special to y-"

Then the deity slammed the door in her face, walked calmly back to his seat and picked up his book again, finding his page.

Unbeknownst to the girl, she had made him uneasy. People weren't supposed to be _nice_ to him. They were supposed to _fear _him damn it.

He snorted and gave the smallest of smirks.

'_Brat.' _

Then continued his readings.

**OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO**

_**Authors Note: Why did I deleted the entire thing? Why is this chapter so damn different from the original chapter 1? Simply put: for consistency.  
**_

_**Those of you who have read through this chapter before will notice the DRAMATIC difference between THIS chapter one, and my original chapter one. And I believe this one covers the characters in a much more realistic light. And I feel it keeps each character… **_**in character!**

**_Since this story has been around for so many years, and my style of writing as changed so much, I figured I would run through and edit them for the sake of a better read. _**

_**Hope you like the edited version, god knows it needed it!**_


	2. Independent Children

Fydra sat silently at her dinner table, eating her breakfast of bread and eggs, while doing her best to ignore the tense silence. Her family was unusually quiet. Her father was sporting a fresh purple bruise and bandage on his cheek, and was focusing way too much on his food with a scowl, shoveling each bite into his mouth with disregard for manners.

During which, Fydra and her soft looking mother were giving sideward glances to one another. Concern on their faces.

After the stretch of silence, Fydra's mother could no longer be the quiet passive wife, "Will- what happened was-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

The older man didn't look up from his plate, and kept chewing loudly. The nine year old felt herself stiffen at his tone.

The carpenter continued, "I just want to have a nice quiet meal with my family." He looked up expectantly, challengingly. "Is that too much to ask?"

"Of course not, Love." Her mother said softly.

Uncomfortable tension followed. The two girls held their breath.

Then the older man closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing his cheek softly, "Still a bit sore about the whole thing." His voice approaching something approachable, and was probably the closest they were going to get to an apology.

Fydra still didn't relax. Not yet.

Her mother stood easily and walked over behind his chair, and snaked her arms around him, "Well, at least you aren't dead." She said off handedly.

"I honestly want to wring his bloody white neck."

Fydra took another bite of eggs and watched on uneasily. Her parents still had no idea that she actually went off and _followed _the monstrous white eyed man. And she wasn't a fan of lying… so she wouldn't, she'll just keep that little detail to herself instead. For as long as humanly possible.

Her mother spoke up again, "Now now, you can't just go off killing people." She said half seriously.

He was silent for a solid five seconds, thinking hard, then he dropped his fork on his plate with a '_chink' _and leaned back and gestured with his hands, "No Sandra, this is ridiculous!" He swiveled his head staring into Fydra's green eyes, "I was attacked by _demon_ yesterday."

Fydra leaned back and felt the hairs on her neck rise at her father's intensity. She could sense his anger boiling up.

"Will, you're scaring your daughter."

The carpenter pushed his chair back to stand, forcing the woman to stumble back suddenly, "That _demon_ is scaring the entire town." He glanced at his startled wife. "You've heard the rumors!"

Sandra sighed and ran a hand through her hair and gave her daughter a sideways glance; noting her company, she spoke hesitantly, "Maybe we should talk about this another tim-"

"No, Fydra needs to hear this."

"We shouldn't scare her, she doesn't ne-" Sandra began to protest.

"Sit." The carpenter's voice was sudden, dark, and unmoving. Sandra settled tentatively into a seat again, looking between her two other family members.

Fydra didn't like the focus she was attaining, and started to feel herself sweat. Her father stared into her, trying to lash out, or to simply focus his humiliation on someone else, she didn't know.

"That demon has sold his soul years ago. Taking away whatever was human about him, and with it his _eyes_ and leaving a void in its wake!"

Fydra instantly thought back to the menacing figure and his empty stare.

Her mother spoke up, "William…"

He continued, "And those marks are of a devil if I've ever seen em'!" his voice was starting on the verge of hysteria. "And he wouldn't hesitate to kill every single one of us!"

Sandra spoke up, "That's _enough." _Her voice cold.

Fydra felt a strange sense of detachment, not really believing what she was hearing. For all intents and purposes, she would have felt inclined to believe him. But she _met_ the…'demon'.

And something about his reaction to the ocarina was nothing but human. And nor did he seem as menacing as her father suggested. Dangerous, probably; but oddly…

Gentle.

Plus he seemed to her more like a grouchy neighbor than anything truly terrifying. And he had really cool face tattoos!

Her mother brought her back to the table. "Sweet pea, why don't you head off to your room? Paint a pretty picture for your mom."

With no hesitation, "Okay." Taking any chance to leave the room. And so the green eyed girl quickly pushed out of her chair and rushed to her small room and shut the door behind her. And then an argument ensued behind her, one involving _her, _and she did her best to ignore it.

She leaned quietly against the door. Her parent's voices becoming more and more like back ground noise.

With a deep breath she was finally able to separate herself from the other room. After another pause she ambled over to her chest of art supplies by her quant green sheeted bed.

The girl knelt and popped it open, then picked out some colors she liked. Trying to forget her father's anger. Sometimes unstoppable anger.

And with it was an unsettling feeling of doubt quaking in her heart. Perhaps her daddy was right. And the man really was a 'demon'. A rage monster. She twitlled with a small blue jar of paint. Her father wasn't perfect, she of all people knew that. But he did look out for her, sometimes.

She stared down into the solid basic blue in her hands quietly, and a new thought entered her mind. One she never really considered. Her daddy could be… wrong.

She sat there for a moment, contemplating the strange new concept. Then the idea really hit her, the nine year olds' eyes widened with a strange rush of inspiration; as if reaching for a newly discovered lifeline. He could be wrong.

Her daddy, could be _wrong._

Meaning, she could be _right_ -Fydra was _never _right!

Fydra started to breathe heavily forgetting the paint bottle in hand. The situation became unusually clear to her like never before. For the first time, her conscious was completely clear from outside influences. –including her father's. Her heart was pounding maddeningly. She could be right about the 'demon' man all along. He could have been misunderstood, wrongfully hated, and maybe even… nice.

No, she _was _right. The tall mysterious man wasn't a monster. He wasn't something terrible and she knew it.

And Fydra Lakewood was going to prove it! And her daddy will finally see her as the _big_ girl she knew she was.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

The empty eyed deity walked again through Wicker, this time with less observers. Now most people of the town just flat out avoided him. Not that he cared. In fact, he preferred it, it gave him more space.

The deity continued his stride in his simple tunic and with the massive double helix sword strapped to his back, clinking with each step.

Someone didn't get out of the way fast enough and actually shouted out in fear when the deity came within twenty feet of him, then scrambled off nearly tripping himself.

The deity snorted in amusement, and kept on walking.

He turned to a small store front and pushed the door aside, and with it the entrance bell rang. The deity dodged around a stuffed bear imposingly waiting by the entrance. The store was filled with rugs, heads, and quant leather accessories displayed on the wood counter. Though it was the _smell _that first grabbed a visitor's attention, it was… off, and was always accompanied with tanning and taxidermy buildings.

The tall man then firmly stood in front of the empty clerk's post and ran through a list of things through his head.

Though whoever owned this little shoddy shop didn't seem to care that he had a customer. His eyes narrowed at the obvious display of lacking discipline. He waited another moment.

Then another.

Then _another._

Finally, his fist clinched and his face hardened, more so than its usual gargoyle glare. "Assistance, shop keep." It was hard and spiteful.

Though in reality, the monstrous man didn't wait longer than a solid 8 to 10 seconds. Not that anyone really planned to tell him so.

A young red haired man just out of his adolescence trudged in from the back of the store, his hair dishevel and rubbing his eyes. "Old' on, old' on… I'm comin'."

The white haired, war tattooed man felt his eye twitch at the sight, _'Good morning, princess.' _

The shop keep had yet to really lay eyes on his costumer yet. And when he looked up and actually caught sight of the deity, he didn't know how to respond, as if the sight in front of him wasn't real.

Then it WAS real.

"Oh shi-!" he jumped back stunned and stumbled into one of the shelves of inventory. Frantically swiveling his head left and right searching for an escape route.

The deity spoke up before the redhead could flee, "I'm here to purchase."

The clerk blinked not quite understanding, then came around to the idea that he wasn't about to be stuffed like the animals presented in the shop. He nodded slowly.

"O- okay."

Moments later the deity walked off towards his home with a pack slung over his shoulder filled with neatly folded cow leather.

With each of his steps, people again avoided him -probably a good idea. He spied a woman and a young boy. At the sight of the fierce-some warrior, the boy tucked in closer to his mother, hiding behind her skirt and tightly clinging to her leg. It seemed every child the deity seen was met with fear.

…Not true.

He looked up to the trees shading the road ahead, and pondered on the strange child that visited him last night. He recalled the memory perfectly, of her holding out the bright blue ocarina hesitantly, but not _fearfully._

In fact, she was curious of him. And that just left him even more unbalanced. No one, NO ONE had bothered to show any interest in him in his entire memory… except for removing his head, perhaps.

But just simple curiosity?

Taking a deep breath he sighed and brought himself back, it wouldn't do to dwell on things that weren't important. He leaned forward and took a turn towards the willow stand that this town was famous for. The tall warrior started to think of more mundane things avoiding thoughts of the child, he would need the new purchased leather to finish up odds and ends around his house. Like repairing the striking post, hemming up a gauntlet, finish putting together another book… Then perhaps afterwards he could catch up on his readings or even practice his ocarina.

'_Wonder if that child likes music?'_

He stopped in his tracks, _'Where did _that_ come from?' _he shook his head, more frustrated than anything. This whole 'child' thing was getting out of hand. It wasn't like she would actually bother him anymore. She came over returning an item, that's _it._ He snorted out, firm in the belief that he was never going to see the brat again.

As it should be. She had no business hanging around him. –and he had better things to do than baby sit some girl.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

So Fydra was waiting patiently behind the tree line watching eagerly for the warrior man to appear back at his home.

And she went ahead and did another first of her life, straight out ran off without her parent's permission or knowledge. They were both out doing parent things –whatever that was- and that allowed Fydra to wonder for a few hours unnoticed.

She sat quietly with a huge grin on her face, adrenaline coursing through her. She was never one to intentionally break rules. But she had to admit.

This was _fun._

The girl giggled to herself. Then she brought her attention back to the home before her. It was simple enough, though she couldn't see the back, she could tell that there was a well tended garden of some sort, with some of the plants climbing up the walls. She tilted her head curiously, for such a rough and tough warrior he certainly had some… strange habits. Fydra's mother certainly gardened in the community plot every other day, but her father would never dream of doing something- as he put it-, _'so womanly'._

The girl smiled broadly, _'Wonder if he has any _other_ girly habits?' _She sat up and went to a crouch on the edge of her toes, spying the area, starting to strain her eyes as it was the closing end of evening._ 'where is he?'_

And on cue, a massive man strode up the path with a pack over his shoulder, his face markings and white hair made it indisputable. This was her man.

As soon as he passed her and reached the foot of his door he paused, as if contemplating something.

Then he slowly turned his head towards the stand of bushes she hid in, searching with quiet intensity, danger and warning filling her. His empty eyes catching every detail.

Fydra had been found and she knew it. And she wasn't so sure now if she should have come. Uncertainty and fear started to consume her thoughts with a sense of unease. She edged back, and was about to bolt. But then the mighty man spoke, his voice carrying through the clearing.

"Come out."

The nine year old gulped. Audibly.

The white haired man narrowed his white eyes. Impatience etched on his face.

Fydra stood up rigidly. Leaves and debris caught in her clothes and hair. "…Um, hi!"

The man blinked a few times, but otherwise his face was impassive. "You."

Fydra felt the hairs on her neck rise. She didn't trust herself to speak.

He shouldered his pack and opened his door, then offhandedly said, "Go home." And just like that, the tense atmosphere vanished.

The girl almost stumbled out of the bush jarred by his dismissal. Fydra gained courage and quickly stepped forward, "Woah, wait up!"

The warrior wasn't expecting that and shifted his gaze to her with the same sort of caution an animal would. Completely focused and unwavering.

It was unsettling, and made Fydra want to turn around right then, but again… she _knew_ in her heart that he wasn't this terrible thing everyone thought he was. He had to be something else. She could feel it. She couldn't be wrong.

"I just wanna talk to ya." when she took a step forward, he actually took a step _back _into his house.

"Go. Home." He repeated.

"I just wanna…" She started, but her words died in her mouth when she actually looked at him, his stare went right through her, and in that stare was… maybe not 'fear', but something like it. And from that point on, Fydra was certain.

This was no monster.

The girl felt a twinge of sympathy for this strange man. It was as if he had never actually _talked_ to someone before. She paused to think of her next words. All the while, their staring contest continued.

She started to wring her hands, looking for the right words. Then the girl straightened her spine and just gave it a shot, "Do- do you mind if… um… Will you be my friend?" Fydra winced and kicked herself, _'Great, now he'll think I'm needy.'_

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

The deity actually blinked at her, his voice low and bewildered. "What?" he really had no idea how to take the girl's question. It came out of nowhere, it didn't make any sense, and who in their right mind would ask _him _if he wanted to be friends? All he knew though, is that in his entire memory-

-he had never been asked it before.

He is a warrior, damn it! And this was complete nonsense! He had half a mind to pull out his sword and outright _threaten _the damn girl to leave. Didn't she know he was dangerous?

The _other _half of his mind however, couldn't help but be curious and drawn to the offer. Who was she to ask such an unorthodox question to him? Because clearly he would say, 'No'

Clearly.

…right.

Did he really want this? The deity had no idea the opportunity would be so pathetically appealing. He _never _had a desire to commune with any of the idiots that dwell on the realm. They could even be considered _his subjects _if he thought far enough into it. His playthings. Subjects he never did anything with and let them rule their own land. Pah!

He took a deep breath and exhaled, a small part of him spoke up, maybe… he needed this. He tightened his first and firmed his resolve, then took a leap he never considered before.

Trusting another.

"… You are an odd mouse." He started softly.

The girl eased and tilted her head perplexed. Not sure what to make of the situation. The deity continued a bit more gruffly, "What's your name?"

The child gave a toothy smile and took a few steps forward, getting closer and closer until she was right in front of him, craning her head to look him in the face. "I'm Fydra! And I'm nine." Then extended a very un-lady like hand doused in dirt awaiting him to shake it. "What's _your_ name?"

Again, the deity paused. He hadn't thought about a name in... ages it feels. Normally he just considered himself, 'Deity', but that wouldn't do for a name.

He clasped the hand hesitantly, "Oni. Call me Oni."

The child… Fydra, was positively glowing, just smiling and staring right at him. "So you'll be my friend?"

Oni snorted, and almost smiled, "One step at a time, child."

**_Authors Note:_**

**_Yea, this is a bit short in comparison to the last and next chapter. But it was a lot of important and crucial things in such a small space that it really deserved it's own chapter. Anywho, don't expect updates this fast. Those who follow me know what I'm talking about. ... IM SORRY! *Full body to the ground mercy begging for forgiveness* _**

**_oh, and review if ya like. Those are always pleasant. _**

**_~BlueIrish_**


	3. Curious Thoughts

After just a few short moments, Oni had somehow found himself mutely inviting the mousey girl- 'Fydra.' He corrected. – into his home. As stunning a statement as that was, it was more the work of young Fydra, who kept inching herself closer to his front door and asking, 'Hey are you headin' inside? Is yer home nice? My room is pretty cool back home. Geez! It's getting cold out isn't it?'

Oni had no idea people could be so blatantly round about on something so trivial. However, he couldn't help but think it added to her strange charm.

In fact, as soon as he proceeded to converse with the child, she sang like a music box telling story after story. He figured she would run out of steam and eventually settle down.

Eventually

She had to.

"- and so I've always liked horses since then." The girl ended with finality. She looked up smiling brightly for the man, obviously awaiting a response.

So Oni gave one, "Do you always talk this much?" he asked flatly.

"Uh." The girl blinked and a tint of pink graced her cheeks. "Sorry, I get like that when I'm excited."

"Clearly." The deity then picked up his mug of tea and took a satisfied swig, letting the long awaited silence hang. He sighed contently at the light rosy taste of the Jasmine leaves. He eyed the child curiously with his white gaze, he had to admit, despite the girls excitement he was enjoying the company more than he anticipated or cared for. He mentally shook that thought away and continued to watch, she seemed uncomfortable with the silence, but Fydra trying to be polite.

How nice.

Oni glanced out his windows and noticed that the only light left was the lanterns and fireplace he lit earlier.

He briefly felt a sense of unreality. Here he was: talking to a child by the fire sipping his favorite tea. It was horribly quant, and it also underlined the extreme circumstances of the situation. Fydra was just a curiosity. He didn't plan on having another visit with her.

He had remembered a time in his past where in a fit of rage, he had destroyed virtually every soldier and obstacle in his path. She had no place with him. But for right this moment? He couldn't help but be grateful to the small girl. He found her… settling.

The girl interrupted his thoughts, "Hey Oni?" Her tone suddenly grave.

The only outward sign he gave was a slight brow raise, still staring off.

"Do ya have any close family?"

He actually crooked a sarcastic smile, "No."

"Why not?"

The white eyed man paused, she certainly knew how to get to the root of things. "I'm not exactly family appropriate." He said mildly. That was true enough, though it wasn't why he didn't have family. He just didn't care to go into it.

The brown haired girl scrunched up her face in confusion. Oni bit back a sigh and reached for a simple solution, "Look at me, do I really appear as a 'family man'?" He focused onto the nine year old, referring to his bizarre and _dangerous_ appearance. He also gestured to his house in general. His massive double helix sword was firmly placed by his cot; characteristic black bombs were set in a crate on the other side of the room next to a towering shelve of books. On his wall there were half a dozen weapons set on display ranging from broad sword to flail.

Fydra looked around, glanced to Oni's features, then eyed the explosives. Finally she brought all her attention back the warrior, "Yes." She said innocently.

"Now you are just being difficult."

She giggled and shook her head, "Heh, no!" She assured. Then the girl turned somber, "Just… I don't see why everyone's so… mean to ya."

Oni was silent, he knew _exactly _why they were 'mean' to him. He was a monster in their eyes, and he was.

The girl continued, "I don't think you could hurt a fly."

At this, the deity felt a sense of unease, and actual frustration for some odd reason. He set his teeth.

Fydra started to fiddle with a strand of her hair, unaware. "Maybe you could get along with them…" she drifted into thought, "Perhaps even with my family."

It was in that moment, Oni realized it.

He actually wanted her company. He actually wanted another visit.

And that was something he simply _could not _have.

He would just corrupt her. He would bring ruin to her. He would utterly rip her world apart if he continued along this path. This child was too pure, too kind. And too _stupid_ to realize what she was doing.

He hated everyone, everyone who looked at him with distain, fear, and utter contempt. As far as he could remember he was fueled by that hate and let it drive him into rage.

And this girl had the _gall _to temp him, to make him even contemplate something remotely approachable to peace. He knew it wouldn't work, not for him. Despite his utter craving for it. And who was_ he_ to ruin this girl for a try at his own salvation?

There was a silence that followed the thought. He knew damn well who _he_ was; a deity who could do as he pleased,

which brought on the question-

'… _Why do I care?' _

He felt panic rise in his chest. He stood suddenly, "Leave." He said dismissively.

Fydra blinked, not sure if she understood, "Wha-?"

"I said _leave._" Iron laced his words this time.

Fydra sat rooted to her spot, dazed. Oni strutted over to her, grabbed her arm and nearly dragged her to his door.

The girl struggled against his grip, and was counter pulling out of instinct. "Why Oni? Wha'd I do?" She pleaded.

The monstrous man ignored her and thrust her out his door onto the dirt. The light from the cabin spilling out to the grounds with the deity's silhouette swallowing the girl's small frame. He had to do this now, or he would forever be tempted. He glared down at her from his towering height, "Go home, girl."

Fydra stared back with confusion and hurt in her eyes, "Why Oni-?"

"Don't speak my name!" he barked. "Go home." He paused, trying to will the rest out of his mouth, forcing his lips open to say the words that so desperately needed to be said. _'-and never come back.' _But he couldn't say it.

The nine year old receded into herself. Unmoving. Defeated.

Oni slammed the door, and moved back to his favorite chair, sat delicately and threaded his fingers in thought. Letting the sounds of the fireplace breathe.

He was weak. He couldn't cut ties with her. Not completely. He couldn't tell her to never come back.

Because a small part of him yearned for her company. Was it her innocence? Her pure and simple view of the world? Perhaps, it was her faith in him for being…decent.

It was such a perverse idea.

He was who he was. The Fierce Deity. He would be nothing else.

No matter how badly he wanted otherwise.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

It had been a few days since the damn incident. And William Lakewood fumed over it since. He obsessed over it, being so causally pushed to the side just ignited his rage. But that was old news.

Today, today he was finally _doing_ something about it. In his hand he held a letter of complaint with a solid hundred signatures. (That was close to a third of the entire town of Wicker.) It was blissfully easy to convince his work crew to jump on board with the idea. Less easy to get the local farmers and shop keeps joining in. But they had, and now it would be nearly impossible for the mayor to ignore a letter for the demon's removal.

Wicker only had a militia, but surely that would be enough to '_remove'_ the spiteful monster.

William Lakewood let a grimace show, _'Knock me around, do you? Now you're gunna' get plowed by the entire town.' _ He chuckled in indecent joy. He pushed the squeaky door aside and strutted into the quant building that acted as both the town's post office and government administration all in one.

When William met the mayor, he honestly expected something to be done immediately, unfortunately-

"Whatta' mean, 'You Can't'!" Howard shouted, his hands were gripping the desks edges, and his knuckles going white.

The blond balding _smaller_ man had his jaw set and was doing his best to calm the carpenter, "I'm not going to send in our militia just because you asked. I can't." His voice was hard with a higher tone begging to be listened to.

William shoved off the desk with disgust. "That thing causes mayhem in every direction he _walks, _and he _assaulted _me!" At this he gestured to the receding bruises on his face.

Mayor Brolif snorted and shifted his fine tunic, "You've gotten worse from brawling with your friends."

"Not one of us tried to press charges on the other. This time, we have a _hundred people_ that agree. That's a _fourth _of the town, not one of them is going to like this!" He countered, referring to the mayor's election numbers. "All you do now and days is sit on your ass completely ignoring your responsibilities!"

At this Brolif's face contorted into something ugly and slammed his fist on the table, "You are overstepping your bounds, another word and you will have a lot worse on your plate than some 'demon' talk."

A tense silence followed, the mayor eased, "I hate it when you get like this, William."

The burley carpenter kept his eyes hard.

Brolif ran a hand through his remaining hair, "I'm not doing nothing. Believe it or not, I _agree with you. _He is a menace."

He started to adjust his papers on his desk, "He has a human like structure and intelligence, so by law we have to pretend that _thing _is a citizen. I can't just arrest or execute someone willy-nilly. Only King Dominick of Termina can do that. But what I _can _do is send in the stranger's description to Clock Town and check for charges. That may take a couple days."

He settled in his chair and raised a hand to silence the on-coming barrage William was about to shout off.

"But let me emphasize something. I can promise you, when the charge letter comes back, that _thing_ will not be innocent. I have a few friends who can make sure of that. Then- then we can do something. Fair?" The mayor let a small smile out to his subject. "I'm on your side here, William. Just there are proper channels to go through."

William paused, frustration in his eyes; but he nodded, "I… understand, but the longer that freak is in town, the worse off we are going to be. He is trouble, the sort of trouble that needs to be removed. Permanently." He ended the last word gravely.

Mayor Brolif gave the carpenter a flat look irritated, then he rumbled out, "I'm considering the matter closed." Then Brolif turned and grabbed a stack of papers in a drawer. "Now get out of my office, I have things to do."

William reminded himself that this was the most politically powerful man in town, and would be better to not piss off further. He grabbed his things and shoved off out of the building murmuring a farewell.

When strode onto the streets he thought quietly to himself, '_Doesn't he see that the demon is planning our demise? Can't he see anything other than an immediate response is stupid?' _He grit his teeth, accepting a hard truth, "No one believes the threat is real-",_'-If so, the lot of them are fools! Damned fools!' _

William then threw his hands into his pockets and darkly walked to the local pub once again.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

Fydra was outside playing in a stand of grass in the pleasant afternoon a couple days after her and Oni's conflict.

She was watching the bugs go about their lives. Following one in particular, a lady bug trudging along a leaf stalk. Her wings and bug skin were _orange _and _brown _instead of red and black, and Fydra found it impossible not to smile with her mouth open.

"What's your name?" She asked aloud.

The bug stilled on the leaf, as if in contemplation.

"I can name you if you don't have one." The nine year old reassured.

The lady bug fluttered open its wings and shell and shifted them back into place.

"Your name will be… Oni. Cause' yer' different than the other bugs and have cool markings; a lot like him." Her voice started excited, but ended on a sad note.

Oni.

He had kicked her out of his house so suddenly, and she couldn't think of what she did to upset him so much. "Hmmm…." She picked a yellowing dandelion and twirled it gently, still eyeing the lady bug. "Do ya' know why he kicked me out?" she asked it.

The bug flew off it's leaf with a buzz and landed on the dandelion in Fydra's hands, now hanging on tightly to the swishing stem.

Fydra huffed, she could have sworn her and Oni were getting along great. When she was with him he would sit silently, listening to her stories. Like a guardian. That was the thing, Fydra strangely felt at ease with the odd man. A man who had been wrongly accused of being a monster.

Despite his show of anger, she still was positively certain he was lamb deep inside. The more she reflected on their meeting… she was certain. She had to be, or she would be wrong, and her daddy right… again.

Fydra stood up with the plant and lady bug in tow and headed to her quant house.

Maybe he didn't want to be her friend?

The nine year old felt her eyes fall.

What if she gave him a gift? She smiled. Maybe that was all he needed. '_He's probably sad no one ever visits, I mean, who would celebrate a birthday with him? If no one, it's up to me.'_

The green eyed girl honestly had no idea when Oni's birthday was. She knew hers was a couple weeks off and she couldn't wait to turn _ten._ But Oni… Oni could very well have never celebrated one. He didn't have a family to celebrate with him either.

Fydra couldn't even fathom that. Birthdays were important, darn it! She gave a loopy smile and skipped home.

'_Maybe I'll give him a carving?' _

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

Sandra Lakewood was putting up laundry outside her home under a healthy oak, a light breeze swishing the sheets. She had a couple of pins in her mouth, enjoying the peace that came with the smell of clean clothes. Her brown hair tied back in a green ribbon.

She pinned up one of little Fydra's night garments. It was something Sandra herself had made for the girl. A sun yellow cloth with green trim. She personally thought it made her daughter look adorable.

William just thought that the extra touch of trim was, 'a waste of yarn if you ask me.'

Sandra snorted. That man.

She set a pin on the line for her bed sheets.

William and Fydra both have been… different lately.

William more aggressive and Fydra more adventurous and distant. Before, the three of them sat and had dinner together on a regular basis. Now however, William has been staying out later and later. And when he got home he would be drunk and would _obsess _over the strange white eyed and white haired man. He wouldn't stop voicing death threats about him. Frankly it made Sandra lose her appetite.

It was also affecting Fydra. The girl used to at least _talk _to her father regularly, but it was becoming less and less so. She also seemed deep in thought and to herself more. She really needed to talk to William about keeping the violent talks to himself. It was clearly scaring their good natured daughter.

She sighed, '_Family issues. Everyone has em''_. She pinned a pair of her husband's trousers. Then Fydra skipped on by with an intense concentration on a dandelion she had in hand.

"Hey, hon." Sandra said pleasantly. "Any plans now that you are out of school for the day? I could use some help later in the kitchen."

Fydra looked up with a grimace. "Do I gotta?"

"Do you want food?" Sandra countered teasingly.

Fydra paused in thought, then looked up with a smile, "umm… no!" then marveled at her plant again. Her words held no sting so Sandra laughed.

"Um yes! It's not for another hour or so, so you have _some _free time before then."

Fydra nodded and turned, "Great! That means I have time to get started."

Sandra picked up the empty wicker basket, "Start on what?"

Fydra was rushing off to the home and over her shoulder shouted, "A carving!" Then rushed in to the quant home.

Sandra eventually followed her daughter inside, and Fydra already had her carving knife out and was chipping away at the block of pine over the dinner table, wood slivers already going everywhere. Though the green eyed girl wasn't quite confident enough to work with hard woods yet, she went at the pine with a vengeance.

Sandra had always been a bit uneasy to see her daughter handling a knife, and felt that she was a bit too tomboyish for Sandra's hopes of having a 'princess'. But the woman had to admit, her daughter had a knack for hands on activities.

She set her basket in its proper spot, "What are you carving?" She asked curious.

Fydra didn't look up, too focused on her endeavor, "A horse."

The woman sat down across from her daughter and leaned back relaxing, watching very intently at Fydra's nimble work. "Another one, love? Why not something else, like a frog?"

Fydra giggled at her mother, "Frogs can't run though." And apparently that was reason enough as she continued her work.

Sandra tilted her head surprised, every now and again her daughter would say something that would catch her off guard. Fydra had a different view of the world than most her age. The mother smiled knowingly, her daughter was innocent and clever. Whether the child knew it not, she had an uncanny ability of focusing on what was truly important. Everything else was just gravy.

'Frogs can't run.' Seemed simple enough from a child to an outside observer, but to Fydra's mother, it was just another sign that the girl focused more on… the _spirit _of the animal, the _core _of what truly mattered. She was attracted to the essence of the horse, not just its appearance. She was like that with _everything, _and had an insatiable curiosity along with it to help her find what mattered to her.

And Sandra loved that about Fydra.

It was something she feared William simply didn't see, or cared to see. He wanted a son.

Sandra shook away the thoughts and observed the work in progress, "Can you make me one someday?"

"Sure mommy." She said, then focused intently with her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as she started getting into more detail. "Hope he likes it..." She said quietly.

"_He?" _Sandra said astonished.

Fydra nodded oblivious to her mother's tone and face.

"Is this a boy in class~?" Sandra asked with a sly expression on her face. "I wasn't interested in boys until I was bout' eleven, but our family ladies DO mature faster than other girls." She mused aloud with her hand on her chin.

Fydra paused her work and glance up at her mom, her face blank, "What?" She asked completely confused.

Sandra blinked, then sighed, "Not there yet, huh? No boy talk then, darn." Her eyes had a twinkle in them, "One day, Hon. You are going to fall so hopelessly in love with a boy you won't have any idea as to how to go about it. When that happens, talk to me."

Fydra stared at her mother, you could almost see the cogs moving behind her head, then it clicked, "Ah! NO! Boys are gross!"

Sandra laughed, "As it should be at your age!" Sandra giggled again at her daughter's expression. But then curiosity spiked through her. "Though, love. If not for someone in class- who's the mystery boy?"

Fydra actually fumbled over her words, "Uh… ! No one! Just a friend? He is a friend, I think. Uh, yea. A friend."

Sandra had to bite the inside of her lip from laughing at her tormented daughter. _'So there IS_ _a boy in class~ my baby's growing up!' _Sandra stood up easily, "Well love, I'll let you off the hook for now." Her eyes holding giddy delight at Fydra's uncomfortable shift.

"Now I'm headin' to start the stove up, finish up what you are doing here soon so you can help, okay, hon?"

The girl sighed in relief. "Okay mom."

**_Author's Note:_**

**_Yep, An update a week later- well how bout' that? I had a blast writing it, hope you liked it!_**


	4. Family Dynamics

It wasn't until late the next day by lantern light that Fydra had finished it, the carving looked beautiful. One of her best really. She held it up and admired the wooden horse. The animal was in mid run, not exactly proportionate, but the fluidity of its motion was present. It was smallish, about a hand's length and a 3/4s a hand high. She had never put so much effort into detail before. Fydra smiled.

She held it gently and rushed into the kitchen holding it up to her mother, "Look! Look! Look at what I made!"

Sandra glanced down from her pot of stew on the wood stove, her eye brows shot up, "Sweet Pea, that's really good." She said sincerely. She set her stirrer to the side and crouched in front of Fydra, her eyes filled with wonder, "May I-?"

Fydra grinned almost ear to ear, "Sure!" Then gently held it out to her mother.

Sandra cradled it in her hands like a baby, "Oh geeze, there is a lot detail in this…" She tilted her head and smiled, "Whoever this boy is, you sure do spoil them."

Fydra blushed and clamped her mouth shut, refusing to answer.

Her mother snickered, "Fine fine! Don't tell me." She gave the carved horse another glance and handed it back to her daughter. "That's some fine work, love." She smiled, "Maybe you could make a living off of it."

Fydra beamed up at her mother.

Her father strode in sweaty with a grimace and a whiskey bottle in hand, he seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Evenin', Love. How was work?" Her mother sounded strangely distant.

He stared at her and gave a forced smile, "It was like work." He headed off to the washroom rinse bowl, the door still open.

Fydra not missing anything tugged on her mother's hem, Sandra gave her attention, Fydra whispered, "Is daddy upset about something?"

Sandra rose a brow and glanced over her shoulder to the washroom, "He's just… tense is all." She looked back down to Fydra with a smile, "That incident with that stranger really ruffled his feathers." She shrugged, "Don't worry about it, hon. I'll take care of it."

"Take care of what?" William suddenly said gruffly. He was magically right next to the girls, "Talking about me behind my back?" His eyes unusually hard.

Sandra huffed, "Will, I'm talking with my daughter. There is nothing wrong with that. Just me and your child are worried about you." She ended her sentence with a sincere note.

There was a silence, "You think I'm going crazy, too." He stated.

Sandra leaned back, "What? No! Why would I think you're crazy?"

William went to the kitchen cabinet, pulling out another bottle of whiskey, "Because everyone is starting to think I'm obsessed with the demon." He turned, "Maybe I am, only because that _monster_ is terrorizing the town and an't nobody is _doin' _anything!"

Sandra turned her head to the side to give him a single eyed questioned stare. "Didn't the mayor do something?"

Will grit his teeth, shook the bottle of whiskey at her, "Of course he did! Otherwise he would be known as the 'do nothing' mayor! He doesn't _mean _any of it. Otherwise this problem would be _dealt _with already." He popped the cap off the bottle and took a deep swig.

Fydra started to edge away to her room, she really didn't want to be around for the inevitable argument.

Sandra shook her head, "I understand that stranger is dangerous, but politics can be difficult, and mayor Brolif does care for his citizens- if all he can do is send word to the capital, then I believe that really is the best _he can do. _Be patient, Willy."

"Don't tell me to be patient! I want this thing dead!" He was shouting with his bottle above his head, as if to strike out. Sandra took a step back, not really believing how fast he angered.

Yet she grimaced and held her voice clear, "You are taking a single encounter too far. Why? Because your _pride _is hurt?"

William slapped her. The 'pap' of the attack silenced the room.

Fydra's eyes widened. She had never seen her father strike out before. And it unsettled her heart. Her mother held a strong demeanor with a grimace, and a clear red print on her face. Fresh wetness in her brown eyes.

William stared hard, "You know I hate doing that."

"Get out." Sandra said immediately.

He took another swig. Then looked at his wife again, his expression regretful of his handiwork. Then turned and headed outside.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

A very unremarkable man jolted out of his seat and knocked his stack of papers onto the ground. He reread the letter in his hands. The other workers around shot him surprised expressions. Feather and ink wells at each desk. The average shocked man actually looked haired, his fine work tunic ruffled, he bolted out the fine stone structure out into the streets of Clock Town completely ignoring the bewildered stares of his coworkers.

The nondescript man ran across Clock Town square with a steady clap of his shoes clearly heard even over the ramble of crowds. He sprinted straight to a small wooden structured café with a few tables set about outside under a stripped billowing sheet providing patrons with shade.

The bland worker had to dodge a group of teens and mutter a curse at them, then he halted right in front of a man eating lunch in a _very _nicely tailored red tunic with a sharp nose and an air of contempt, clearly a noble that was a part of the Termina Counsel. And Mr. nondescript's boss.

The noble nearly dropped his cup of tea and glared at his employee, "Yes, yes, what is it Sven?" Then he delicately went to take a sip of his rudely expensive beverage.

The pathetically normal looking Sven thrust the letter under the noble's chin. "Mr. Hicks! We know where he is!"

The noble responded by spurting his tea straight onto the ground.

The noble and his employee burst through the heavy wood doors and were then strutting along a red and purple carpet inside the King's castle, stopping at the secretary who was wearing a fine blue dress with red hair, writing on a bunch of forms with delicate precision. She looked up expectantly at the visitors.

"Mr. Hicks. Always a pleasure, do you have an appointment?"

The noble held up the letter, "We know where he is."

The secretary spilt her ink well all over her forms.

Now the party of three walked briskly with concern on their faces, they came upon a door which had two guards in light armor and royal purple trim. The secretary knocked on the door firmly.

"Enter-" An old sagely voice said, the woman started to open the wooden chamber door, then the old voice spoke up hastily, "oops! Not yet! Hold on…"

The secretary shut the door again nervously. The noble and the employee looked at her bewildered, she looked back at them apologetically, "Mr. Locke is… eccentric." She explained.

Sven tilted his sadly boring head, "Wait, you mean the castle mage?"

Before the secretary could respond the mage's voice seeped out, "Alrighty, you may enter now."

The group barged in with urgency, "Sir! We found him!" She exclaimed, waving the letter like a victory flag. The three of them looked on with expectant faces.

An old man with a gray and white beard robed in ancient blue and beige sat calmly in front of a lit fireplace. He blinked at the group with curious blue eyes. Setting the history book down to give them his full attention.

"Oh, um… good job." He didn't sound as enthusiastic like they expected, and they sighed disappointed. Locke continued, " I will bring it to the King's attention later, Eeza." He stood up with energy some youth would have envied and strode over to the group. He gave them all warm smiles. "I'll take that." Gesturing his eyes to the letter.

"Of course, sir." Eeza said dignified. Then handed it over.

Locke nodded smoothly, "Thank you." Then headed back to his chair, doing his best to ignore the group. "I'll talk to you later, take care!" he said quickly.

And with that, they took their leave disappointed and shut the door behind them.

Locke sighed. Young people.

He unfolded the letter and gave it a skim.

"Wicker, eh?" He thought aloud. The old castle mage snorted and set it on his desk, "Everyone always gets up into a tuff when the 'Demon of Termina' rears his head." He picked up the history book and placed back on the shelf, he wasn't reading it anyway. He went over to his quant bed and did a customary left and right glance to see if anyone was watching. He almost got caught before when his secretary walked in.

He pulled a blue book out from under his cot, the letters on the front written in romantic red. The title, '_The Forbidden Pearl ~a love story between man and zora.'_

He'd rather be _dead _than caught reading this.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

Later that day Locke sat across from the Ruler of Termina King Dominick himself over a marble table. The mage's legs were crossed and expression attentive.

They were sitting in a private meeting room with a window overlooking the courtyard gardens. Dominick looked on agitated with his strong features in his fine daily wear of cloak and tunic. The royal purple colors only seen through tasteful trim. He spoke up with a dominating voice, which also happened to be his conversing tone. "You mean to tell me the demon has been sitting under our bloody noses?"

"Not just sitting, beating up carpenters in his free time, milord." The aged castle mage said easily.

Dominick waved him off, "Bah, you know what I mean. How could we have missed this?"

Locke uncrossed his legs and leaned forward towards his longtime friend. "No fault of ours, we searched for a solid couple years with nothing, but he seems to be drawn to the area." The old mage shrugged, "Though, at least we know _now. _What do you plan?"

Dominick gestured for a servant to bring him his usual wine, he looked back at the mage gravely. "Kill him, the usual."

Locke actually barked a laugh, "Ironically, Brolif the mayor of Wicker was trying to pull strings for an execution. He has no idea that the man they have is _the _demon of Termina."

Dominick snorted with true mirth, "If he could do it, good on him." He glanced to the oncoming tray with his drink. He swiped it with ease. "Alright, so assuming the Demon doesn't decide to just roll over and die, any suggestions?"

Locke focused his blue eyes on his king, "Get an expert. Hire that bounty hunter." He said simply.

Dominick actually flinched bewildered, "Are you serious? That man is loon." He gestured out with a massive hand. "Plus his name is ridiculous, '_The Knife'?_ It's like a villain out of a terrible play."

James Locke shrugged his shoulders and gave a reassuring smile, "I've looked into him, he's respected by the Clock Town Fighter's guild, heck, even some of the Clock Town _guard _admire him. He's pulled in criminals and monsters alike with complete disregard of difficulty."

The King grumbled, "I hate having to rely on our commoners, we have a guard for a reason…"

"And that guard ended up getting slaughtered last time." Locke said reproachfully, though there was a hint of understanding in it. "Perhaps having a single man lead into it would be… less obtrusive, and possibly more successful." He scratched his beard and looked out the window to the castle gardens, "Hire him, if it doesn't work, you can't say you didn't try."

Dominick was quiet and swirled his wine glass, his pride was wounded in having to use an outside source other than his guard. He set the glass down and sighed, "Fine, see to it that an audience is made."

"Sure thing, I'll make an appointment. How would _now _be?" The mage said gleefully.

Dominick blinked, Locke nodded to the guards standing beside the doors to the meeting room, they opened them with a flourish and in walked a man who was used to attention. He was fairly normal looking, he was on the cusp of middle age, and was about 6 foot with short brown hair. His body moved with the grace of a panther. And his stupid theatrical grin and boyish face made him obviously, 'The Knife.'

He clearly was highly capable at what he did and enjoyed it even. His reputation was something to be awed. And his risqué escapades were legendary amongst the fighters of the town.

Dominick sighed and rubbed his temple while taking a sip of wine, all while Locke beamed at him with an almost inappropriate joy at a trick gone well.

"Milord, let me introduce to you our bounty hunter-" The brown haired man sauntered up and knelt with his head low to the King. "-The Knife!" Locke finished heroically.

Dominick tried to keep his face impassive, completely unaffected. His castle mage was such a child at times. A child who usually knew what he was talking about. Dominick trusted his opinion deeply.

He sighed for the umpteenth time, "Okay, you got me. Now on to business." He shifted in his seat and gestured the Knife to stand, "Get up, Knife." _'-What a ridiculous name.' "_Join us, take a seat." Dominick pointed to a chair with his chin.

The Knife had enough grace to half bow to his King and then took a seat next to the castle mage, his features relaxed.

Dominick leaned in, "Should I assume that you know why you're here?"

The Knife nodded and his expression narrowed, now completely set for the task at hand, "I know I was meant to be reviewed and briefed on a rather…. difficult bounty. What exactly, I don't know."

Dominick was suddenly impressed by this odd bounty hunter, not so much by his words, but by the sincerity and seriousness in his tone. Perhaps he would get the job done? The King brushed the thoughts aside, "Yes, you have heard of the Demon of Termina?"

The Knife connected the dots, his boyish face tighten, "Are you serious?"

Dominick nodded, "We just received word not twenty four hours ago." He glanced at Locke, who was attentive. Dominick couldn't believe how quick his mage got things done. He continued, "He is in the town of Wicker, there was already an incident with one of the locals. No deaths luckily." '_-so far.' _He added silently.

The King then took a sip of his wine then held it close to his heart and looked to the Knife, his voice soft for once, "Think you're up for it?"

The Knife leaned in with his fingers laced under his chin, his eyes distant in thought, "You want me to go after _the demon_?" he asked rhetorically.

The King and his mage let him think, waiting. They have yet to receive a yes.

The Knife suddenly nodded to himself and looked up with determination, "Before we continue, I have some questions."

Dominick and Locke glanced at each other, Locke with a question in his eyes. Dominick nodded to him. The old mage looked over to the bounty hunter, "Ask them."

"I am willing, and if I do it; I was wondering if I can get my hands on any incident reports for the last five years involving the demon."

Locke nodded, "Of course."

The brown haired bounty hunter stared out the window admiring the view, "In that case, gentlemen. The only question I have left-" He suddenly looked back at his two host, but with a grim smile, "How much are we talkin' here?"

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

It was a bit later in the evening after sun down, and William was already drunk hanging with his coworkers. They were laughing loudly inside the pub to an obnoxious degree, almost falling out of their seats at the table. Other patrons were giving the four of them heavy glares.

But alas, they were completely oblivious.

Beth, a rough looking blond, and one of his more trusted friends looked over to him with a blush across her cheeks from the alcohol, a stein in her strong hand, her words slurred as well as accented, the result was close to flat out incoherent babble, "Hugo, that es' hystera'- hyst-" trying to pronounce the word she wanted, she grunted, "fuc' et'! at's funneh'!"

The other three at the table burst out with booming laughs. The carpenter Beth was conversing with was a younger man with greasy hair, 'tipsy' as well, "Beth, I ant' understand a damn thing you said!" he giggled out.

Beth grumbled stupidly and waved him off with her middle finger.

William Lakewood snorted, and had a low laugh. Their fourth friend was a man named Jake, medium built and missing a solid four teeth, otherwise, he was still oddly hansom. "Hey Willy! How is that family of yers'?"

William paused, as if not sure what to think, then cracked a silly smile, it was unfortunately one of the only times he smiled lately. He responded was giddy, "Wife still got legs to die for!"

The group answered with suggestive 'ohhh~'s

William waved them off with a grin, Jake leaned in with a suggestive look elbowing William, "And you still somehow only have _one _kid? You an't using your wife's gifts? Hell, if you an't havin' her, maybe she would be better used in _my _bed!"

The others laughed, William's face suddenly turned dangerously dark, "That wouldn't work, you wouldn't know where to sheath yourself_._" he ended it hotly, and to add injury to insult, he shoved his metal stein hard against Jake's chest. Spilling beer all over his clothes.

Jake looked down bewildered, "Aw Farore! You an't have to take et' so seriously, Willy!" Will looked on smugly. Beth apparently found it hilarious, and laughed so hard she spilled the rest of her beer all over the table, and for some reason, that was just funnier to them. So they laughed harder.

William was still glaring at Jake, they were unaware. "I'm already _pissed _about that demon; I don't need you trying to take what is mine on top of it!"

Hugo snorted, "Oh not this again!" and shook his head.

"Shut it, Hugo." Will barked at him.

Beth slowed her laugh and gave William a strange look, and began to slur out to him, "Ey' Willy-nilly~ I ate' that .. .thing as mush' as ze' nex' guy, but…" She shook her head ruefully, "You tak' et' too faaaar-."

Hugo and Jake blinked at her silently, then began a slow giggle. "What she say?" Jake asked.

William was frowning, and his eyes narrowed, "The same crap she's been tellin' me fer' the last week."

Hugo nodded, his hair still sticking to his head from sweat, "That you are driving yerself' crazy about the demon? She's right you know." Jake nodded in agreement.

William glared at them, the silence growing, "What is this? An intervention?"

Jake snorted and took a swig of his drink, "Nah, but you _should_ let it go."

"No! I am not gunna' let it go!" His anger back in full swing.

Beth looked at him drunkenly, "_Why nooot?" _her voice ended in a high question.

William grit his teeth, "No one crosses me, an' I don' need no one to question me, especially _you assholes." _ He pushed away from the table and stood wobbly. "You know what? Fuck you all."

"Aw don't be like that, Will!" Hugo whined out, "We're sorry!"

Jake leaned forward, "Yea, relax." Already forgetting that William splashed beer all over him.

William's brown eyes were like flint, "That freak is going to be the ruin of this town if we don' do _something!" _He started to trip up in his own legs, still drunk, "Nobody is doin' anything! Not you guys, not the mayor, no one! And nobody is takin' it _seriously._" He slammed his first loosely on the table. "Even my wife ant' takin' it seriously!"

He looked at each them individually, "So I'm gunna' _do _something about it."

"Will." Jake grabbed the attention of the group, he continued seriously. "That's crazy talk. Don't mess wit' something that you can't dig yerself out of."

William actually started to look _upset._ "Thanks for the pep talk." His words sticky with scorn. He dug his hands into his pocket and flung a few rupees at his friends, then strode out unbalanced. Leaving his friends stunned behind him.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

Oni sat in his chair reading from the nature noon light, doing his best to push aside his pesky thoughts. It had been almost a week since he last seen the girl. And every now and then, she would pop up in his mind, with her childish eagerness and grin staring up at him.

It was so bothersome. He had kicked her out and if she hadn't come back now, she never was. That _was _his intention after all. But he couldn't help but feel a pang of …grief. The deity shook his head and tried to continue reading.

'_Ikana Warriors… hm…' _

He looked farther into it.

'_The weight added to brand new students were perceived as 'mortal bonds'; and had them worn day and night. Wearing them during practice sessions, sleep, even during bathing. Once the students went through the proper means of training and showed dedication, they became initiates. And the bonds are removed, breaking out of 'Mortal Limitations.' Then they trained further. _

_Once they become Knights of the Canyon, training sessions involved more bonding weights, the newer set known as, 'The Weight of the Ikana' Representing the responsibility involved with protecting the land. Though these weights weren't worn day and night like new perspective students, they were much heavier. _

Oni continued his study then suddenly thought, _'What if she _does_ come back?' _the deity slapped the book shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was getting ridiculous. He obviously wanted her company, but he couldn't. It would only end in ruin. He knew that. But that didn't stop his cravings.

He looked up to the rafters in his home and snorted.

'_You've told yourself this a thousand times, she isn't coming back.'_

At that moment, the door sounded, _Thunk Thunk Thunk_

Oni's heart leaped, and he whipped his head around to the door, '_Is she really that stupid?!' _His expression shocked. Not sure if he was angry or excited, he stood and almost _ran _to the door. He flung the door open with a creak and there stood Fydra looking surprised at his quick response. Otherwise, her expression was hesitant.

Oni spoke first, "Child?" There was none of the usual steel in his voice.

She glanced to the side for a moment then looked back up at Oni completely barefaced. It made Oni want to reach out, he didn't.

The nine year old spoke, "Hello… again. Um…" She didn't seem to know what to do next. Oni then noticed the blue box in her hands. She continued, "I know you don' wanna' see me, or be friends. But I- I figured you'd like this."

She then stretched the box out to him.

'_A gift?' _Oni blinked at it. Then he took the box gently, staring at the simple design. He lifted the lid slowly and saw a small wooden horse lying on its side.

He didn't really know what to think. It was after all the first gift he had received. He picked it up curiously. It wasn't the best carving he had ever seen but there was obvious care involved. It seemed like the local carver was losing his touch. None the less, he felt grateful.

Fydra spoke up as if able to read his mind and gestured to the horse, "I spent all night doin' that."

The deity's eyes widened, the war markings on his head rose with his brows, "_You_ did this?"

Fydra nodded, her eyes on him.

He looked back down to the horse with a whole new perspective, the fact that this was done by a _child _was amazing, and not only that, but done for _him. _It made his head spin. He felt his chest tighten and smiled. A genuine smile.

Oni then looked back at her intensely, his smile being replaced with unnatural focus. He felt a sudden loyalty bubbling up inside him, a caring he never expected. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted her friendship. And with it, he wanted to protect this rare creature who had shown him kindness.

No matter what the cost.

Oni actually felt the hints of awkwardness as he stepped back into his house and stood aside with the door open, mutely inviting her in. Fydra's eyes brightened. She must have realized his invitation wasn't just another opportunity for a friendship, but an apology as well. If only she knew that his selfish want could very well be her doom. But he could no longer resist her company.

She walked in passed him with relief in her shoulders, she stood in the center of the room, observing each inch of the home as if it were her first time.

Oni started to feel self conscious; ignoring it he wandered over to the wood stove, started it up and retrieved a kettle. "Would you like some tea?" His voice deep, but with an unfamiliar tone.

He could hear Fydra's smile in her voice, "Sure, what kind?"

"Jasmine." He dunked the kettle under a basin of water already waiting in the kitchen, then set it on the stove. It was going to be a while before it boiled. Oni turned to the girl again, not sure what to do next.

He went and sat in his usual comfy chair and eyed the child.

She smiled at him and got right to the point, "Does this mean we're friends again?"

Oni snorted and eased back into his chair, "You can say that."

The girl smiled sincerely, then tilted her head in question, "Did I upset you, before? In our last visit?"

Oni quickly shook his head and waved her off, "No no, nothing like that."

"Then why-?"

Fydra couldn't find her next words. So Oni took up the line, "Why did I ask you to leave?" Fydra nodded meekly.

Oni felt himself tense again, being reminded that he was endangering her. But if he was going to keep this little friendship, he might as well start with something honest. " –I didn't want to tempt myself. And endanger you."

The girl blinked, "But I'm fine!"

Oni ran a hand through his white hair and looked at Fydra with patience and continued flatly. "I am one of the most wanted criminals in Termina, I have an unnatural appearance and sometimes an unstoppable rage. I have _killed _people, child." His voice was soft, but begging to be listened to. "There will always be those who come after me, I could bring ruin to you just by proximity."

Fydra was silent for a long time, thinking hard. Oni watched her, and wondered if she would fly off like a scared bird at his admission. Then she looked up slowly and held his gaze, he felt exposed with her soul searching stare. She didn't look scared or nervous, she looked curious. Her expression was completely without judgment. Oni took this time to actually get a good look at this interesting creature. Her simple brown hair a little over shoulder length, she was also a couple _feet_ shorter than Oni. But her eyes, her curious green eyes held a spirit he had never seen before.

He wondered what she thought of his appearance.

They held their stares for what felt like minutes. Finally, Fydra spoke up, "But I like you, why should things like that stop me from being your friend?"

"Because you could lose everything." Oni said exasperated.

Fydra shrugged, "No one should be afraid to be friends." Oni was silent, that was one of the stupidest things he had ever heard. It was so opposite to his mentality it made his head spin. It was so simple and idealistic without any regard to the real world.

It touched him.

She was truly something special.

He snorted and smiled largely at her, then lifted his massive form and went over to the stove to check the kettle, planning on making the jasmine tea extra carefully for her. "It's a nice day today, why don't we move this conversation out back. The garden is quite beautiful."

She giggled with mirth, "You _garden?_"

_**Authors Note:**_

_** To the tea snobs out there, you will understand the slight meaning of taking extra care with jasmine tea. Now I don't claim to be knowledgeable in teas, but….. I WANNA BE A TEA SNOB! TEACH ME YOUR WAYS! T_T**_

_**So, Fydra and Oni are now officially friends… gnarly. I also realize that with this particular approach in the story, Oni seems… well, not dangerous. But do you honestly think that will last? Maybe. I'm also throwing a heavy watch on William, why? Because I want you to care about this little family, damn it. **_

_**Anyway, Next week's update might be a bit delayed. I just got an extra heaping helping of term classes. So yea, less time. **_

**_Thoughts, critiques, review yo. _**_**  
**_

**_~BlueIrish_**


	5. Days of a Drunkard

William Lakewood hefted up the long set of wooden planks for the home being built, sweat was on his brow and his skin baked to a healthy oak color. He strode over to one of his co-workers and placed the boards in their appropriate spots to be hammered in.

The coworker didn't even acknowledge William. They have worked together so often that they were a smooth machine at this point, able to build an entire home with just the ten of them from the ground up. Hard work and muscle memory made each building they created seamless.

William exhaled and walked over to the trough and ladled up fresh water into his bowl. Without hesitation, he greedily gulped down half, then dumped the rest over his head. Feeling every gentle finger of water race down his form.

"Hey Willy!" Someone called out gruffly.

William looked up to see his boss across the yard, he was a graying man wearing simple white work clothes, waving a massive arm calling him over. Standing next to him was a man Will had never seen, a tall middle aged male, his hair and face still youthful with an easy smile. A sword was at his waist with leather armor strapped about him.

William narrowed his eyes and strode over curiously.

He stepped up to his boss and stranger. The graying man began immediately, "Willy, this man said he has a few questions for ya. So I'll let ya' be. But in a bit we're startin' the roof thatch, we'll need ya' then."

William nodded, "Alright."

Then they were suddenly alone. The armored man was obviously a warrior of some kind, whatever the fighter wanted to do with _him,_ he had no idea.

The curious man stuck out his hand for a shake, William complied and the youthful faced cracked a smile, "William Lakewood?"

The carpenter nodded, "And you are?"

Their hands parted and the warrior grinned easily, "Unfortunately, in my line of work, my name isn't really safe. So please call me by my hunter name, _The Knife._"

Will blinked, "The Knife?" He had heard of this man before, some big shot bounty hunter. William could guess what he was here for, '_The demon.'_ He felt his face tighten. "How can I help you?" He forced his voice to sound normal.

"I hear there is quite the _pest_ problem here. So I was sent out here by King Dominick's own word." He said, confirming William's thoughts. "I was looking for a few good men that could help me hunt down my prey." His words were heavy. "I have a few militia from town, but Mayor Brolif pointed me in your direction. Saying that I 'wouldn't find a more driven man.' Especially considering your past history with the demon. You would play as our resource for local information and knowledge."

William felt his tongue dry when the Knife finally mentioned the monster. This was his chance. "Yes, me and the demon have… met."

The Knife nodded, "Are you interested?"

William's smile was something more akin to a shark than human. "I would love the opportunity to get back at em'."

The Knife stared at him seriously and glanced to see if anyone would overhear, "Before you commit, you should know that we are not dealing with a normal demon here. It will be dangerous."

"Can't be as dangerous as letting him do as he pleases."

"Even if it's _the _Demon of Termina?"

William flinched, not quite registering what The Knife had said. His heart rate increase as he understood, everyone had heard of _that _particular being, no one had seen or heard a peep about his existence for the last couple of years. To realize that the demon in his town was the _same _menace that plagued Termina for well over two decades made his fear and his hate grow. His next words were a whisper, "TheDemon of Termina?" It didn't change his resolve, it just made it more personal, his family and friends were all at risk. What kind of father would he be if he didn't take this chance to protect them?

Knife nodded, "Yep, you may not have realized it, but you were a lot closer to death with your little incident than you could have known."

William was silent. The Knife continued, "So, if you are up to it- this is where we meet." He offered Will a sheet of paper with a location and time on it.

The carpenter took it numbly and stared at, "I'll be there."

The Knife nodded, "Good." He turned and started to walk and waved casually over his shoulder, "I'm sure you'll be useful."

William stared at the odd bounty hunter's back as he sauntered off, and felt the forces of the world starting to shift. Things were going to get interesting, and soon.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

Fydra happily skipped home after school, though she couldn't really focus on her studies, she was too preoccupied thinking about her next visit with Oni. Last time they were together she got to try some really good tea, and they talked for hours. Fydra had to admit, Oni was the coolest adult she had ever met.

The green eyed girl rounded one of the shops and then ran home. Passing her mother who was sitting in a rocking chair out front. "Hey mom!"

"Hello love. Good day at school?"

"Yep yep." And Fydra rushed into her home straight to her room tossing her bag next to her cot. Turning right back around the girl ran through the kitchen and grabbed an apple from a wicker basket on the table and was back outside in a flash startling her mother who was sitting regally in her rocking chair.

"Off already?" Sandra Lakewood voiced rhetorically, "Be home for dinner!"

"I will!"And Fydra was off, kicking up a cloud of dust in the dry earth.

Sandra stared after her bewildered, "That girl." chucked then looked back down to her crotchet, _'Wonder where she is spending all of her time these days?' _Sandra shook her head, "Young love." She sighed.

It didn't take Fydra long to get to Oni's house, she had been making a habit to meet the odd man almost every day. Each time she would learn a little bit about him, he would then push her to think and muse. Fydra realized he provided an unusual solid ground for her to stand on. It was secure, and safe. His presence was that of an unmovable guardian, so she couldn't help but like Oni.

She knocked on the door, and eventually the giant man opened the door and stared down with a small smile, his facial markings ever so present. "Hello there, child." Then he stepped aside and let her in, his features returning to their normal hard stare.

Fydra almost skipped into the room with her ease obvious.

Then Oni shut the door gently behind him.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

"So, have you ever traveled before?" Fydra asked politely. Munching on an apple from the very tree she was sitting under. Her rocking chair swinging happily in the garden.

Oni shrugged his shoulders, his back to Fydra keeping his attention to the flowers in front of him, slicing off a dying marigold blossom with a blade. "I traveled all over Termina. Farthest I've been was the Gerudo Desert. However, I don't know how much I've traveled for sure; memory has been a bit nebulous." He said sarcastically, then the man's back stiffened, as if he let a secret slip.

Fydra again bit into the apple with a pop, "Nebo-what?" her voice muffled.

Oni continued his gardening, nonchalant. "Nebulous; it means murky, vague. And don't talk with your mouth full."

Fydra nodded sheepishly and swallowed, "So, you don't remember your past then?" genuine curiosity in her voice.

Oni shifted to face a sweet smelling red flower, he sheared it off and turned to Fydra, hesitant, "I only remember the last… -recent years of my life." Clearly trying to shy away from the topic, and twirled the flower in his forefinger and thumb.

Fydra tilted her head, it wasn't often Oni was uncomfortable, except of course when they first met. She pressed on, "How long ago can you remember?"

Oni snorted, completely unyielding. He knelt in front of Fydra with his usual stoic expression, then set the flower into her hair. "… That's a conversation for another day."

Fydra scrunched her face as if she tasted something sour, "But I wanna' know!"

"Well, that's too bad."

Fydra pouted, Oni huffed in response and stood up and walked on over to another stand of flowers. He called over his shoulder, "What of you, child? Have you ever traveled?"

Fydra felt for the flower in her hair, you could hear her smile, "Nah, not really. Only been to Clock Town couplo' times with daddy, and the Great Bay once. That was amazing!"

Fydra then furrowed her brow, "Wait, what about your family?" she asked suddenly.

Oni grunted as he tended to his flowers, "I thought we talked about this, child."

Fyrdra shrugged, "We did, but you only said you weren't a family man. But you never mention them. As if you don't remember them either."

Oni was silent, debating, "I don't." he decided.

Fydra's eye's saddened, "I thought you simply didn't like them or something. But it turns out you don't… have any."

Oni was silent, crouched and turned. He stood and looked at the child with empty eyes. A silence stretched between them. Fydra quickly eyed her apple and took a bite to keep the awkwardness at bay.

Oni pulled out his ocarina, always on his person. He fiddled with it carefully, "Do you know why my ocarina is so precious to me?"

Fydra blinked, "No, you never said."

"It's the only clue I have of my past. When I…awoke, all I had were the clothes on my back, my sword, and this ocarina."

He placed it on his lips and blew a soft note, he paused, licked his lips and played again. The song that eased out was rhythmic and soft as silk.

Fydra sat silently watching, mesmerized even. And Oni just kept on playing like water.

They sat there like that for a long moment.

Finally Oni removed the instrument and brought his attention back to Fydra, "I searched all of Termina, researched everything on the Triforce." He gestured to the tight silver band on the ocarina. "It is such a broadly used symbol that it left me with nowhere in particular to look."

"That's so sad." The child said solemnly.

"Don't pity me. I don't remember them, so it's difficult to _care_." He sat in a partnering chair. "I searched out of curiosity." His face was his usual hard mask though his voice held something she couldn't place.

"Well, I hope you find them one day."

Oni grunted and let the silence sit staring off into his garden.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

"Glad you could all make it." The bounty hunter sounded relieved, he looked about the crowded meeting room. There were eleven of them huddling close to a wood table situated in the middle of the room with a yellowing map. The occupants varied from local guards, a few weapons experts, a scout, a few hunter buddies of The Knife's. And a local carpenter by the name of William Lakewood. The Wicker man certainly was sturdy lookin', clearly not afraid to fight for his beliefs. But he stuck out in this crowd of professional killers.

Either way, The Knife felt that William would be gung ho in his work against the demon.

The Knife took a deep breath and smiled his boyish grin smoothly, "Alrighty then, let's get to it. We know the Demon of Termina resides in this area, he communes to the market not regularly, but enough to indicate a comfortableness with his surroundings. We have only a slight clue as to where the thing lives, looking on past information... he keeps to himself enough. Out of sight probably. Witnesses say he comes from the east of town."

He gestured to the map.

"Wicker Woods. Willows and swamplands out the wazoo. Nor a lot of foot traffic that direction."

The bounty hunter shrugged, "We have plenty of arsenal to get creative with next door: nets, flame oil, poison, even Din damned explosives if we want to be belligerent. Let's try not to go that route." He eyed one his hunter buddies who looked up innocently while fiddling with an infamous black orbed bomb. "I'm talkin' to you, Red."

"Right right…" the explosives expert waved off.

The Knife shook his head, "So the idea is first to eliminate him with minimal effort. Use poison, use nets, use arrows, anything to keep him either at distance, or at disadvantage."

The others nodded. The Knife continued.

"If _that_ don't work, keep adding pressure with swords. And if THAT don't work… well, we can go ahead and _be_ _belligerent_." He eased off the table. "So that's our work cut out. The floor is open to suggestion. See if we can narrow down some details."

The Knife looked about the room, making eye contact with each member of the meeting. Eventually, he found his stare on one William Lakewood, who looked back with an almost indecent joy.

And The Knife gave a small smile back and turned away. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to include the carpenter. The local seemed to care just a bit too much. And putting your passion so close to something so dangerous… people like that had short life spans.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

Later that evening after the meeting, William had stumbled out of the usual bar. His mood not looking as good as it had been earlier. His senses dulled- a growing habit. He couldn't believe how his friends inside were treating him. Trying to tell him how to live his life. That was happening more and more often now. It was stupid.

He fumbled to a random direction, just doing everything he could to get away from his insulting friends. Didn't they have anything better to do than sit in that stinkin' bar and rot? It's like the only thing they looked forward to was to question him now and days.

He began to walk. It gave his mind something to do. Left foot, right foot, left foot…

Before he knew it, he found himself wondering the outskirts of town during the twilight hours. Still needing a huge effort to use his legs.

They mocked him, he _knew _they mocked him behind his back, his so called 'Friends'. He grumbled and kept moving forward.

Did his wife mock him? His lovely wife? The only one really worth anything in this town.

Did she find him repulsive or obsessive?

The middle aged carpenter shook his head, he knew the alcohol was affecting his judgment, but that didn't stop his thoughts.

William then grit his teeth, thinking back to the conversations they shared. Dwelling on it, he could feel the _grin _she held under her words. The condescending tone that he never noticed before.

How could she?

He stopped in his tracks, staring at the dirt between his feet. His emotions were doing flips, low and sad, "I love you Sandra." He said numbly. Even if she didn't believe him and his claims, he would be _damned _if he was going to let anything happen to her. Even to little Fydra.

He felt his face tense. He and his daughter were becoming distant. He had to admit, he wasn't the best father. They didn't talk like they used too, even then, there conversations were a little strained. But at least they _existed._

She wasn't exactly the best child to chat with either, she was unfocused and flighty. He guessed that was his fault too.

He looked up from his spot and realized he was at a part of town he never visited before, and actually had no clue where he was. Up the path there was a small wooden house hidden behind a stand of willow trees, and a very well tended garden growing in the back, some of the plants growing up the edges of the house.

William sighed, '_Better head home, guess I'll ask for directions.' _His self pity coming to an end.

He ambled up the trail with tired feet, the sun already set and the stars were poking out. He looked up to the simple wooden door and gave it a heavy two knocks.

'Thunk Thunk'

He waited, tiredness and alcohol numbing his mind.

He heard someone inside shift, but the door didn't open. _'Apparently they don't want to be bothered.'_ William snorted, too tired to be angry or care, he raised his fist again to knock.

'_Well too bad, you lazy shmuck.' _

'Thunk Thunk Thunk.'

He waited, staring at his shoes patiently waiting for his sobering.

Noise again from inside, aggressive steps got to the door. The wood hatch was violently opened, and light from inside shone through, William winced his eyes and looked up to the silhouetted man before him, "Sorry for the late visit, I was just wondering if you could point me to…" His words died in his mouth as his vision cleared. Not really registering what he saw.

In front of him was the Demon himself. Standing almost two heads taller than William, his shadowed features staring down at him like stone. His stark white hair laying to the sides of his skull, his red and blue markings ever prominent.

His empty eyes unmoving, and focusing on William with what felt like the weight of the universe, those eyes spoke volumes along with a message so clear it struck an instinctual part of the carpenter, they said, _you will die one day, and I will see to it._

The surprise was complete, William garbled out a shout and stumbled back, "You!" his voice on hysteria. He swung his arms wide to keep the demon away, then fell onto the ground. He scrambled away and stood hastily and shot his wide eyes at the demon.

The demon hadn't moved an inch from his spot, just staring unnervingly at William, with the light playing backdrop to the monster.

William felt like a child, small and vulnerable. Weak. His fear and hate grew inside him as he stared back at death himself. Hating this goddesses damned _abomination _for doing this to him.

He opened his mouth and shouted in rage, "What do you want from me?!" He picked up a stone, "Are you _following _me?" He threw the stone, missing wide with fear and alcohol, the demon stood still unheeding to move.

William shook and quickly backpedaled, screaming fearfully, "Stay the fuck away from me and my family!"

The demon stood still, with his ire eyes still unmoving on him as he got farther, sprinting for his life.

And it was never far enough, William ran a solid two miles with his alcohol induced mind imagining the monster around every bend, hidden in every shadow, behind trees with his white eyes staring.

Waiting to steal his soul.

OOOO ~ OOOO ~ OOOO

Fydra was idly drawing in the living room, and her mother quietly reading. The both of them simply sharing the space

The door burst open, and in ran a deranged William Lakewood.

Sandra flinched at the suddenness and stood, "Will-? Where have you been?"

William strode up to his wife and kissed her harshly, Sandra muffled out a surprised cry. The carpenter then held her at arm's length, his eyes blood shot and breath ragged. "It's following us! And it will not stop until we all die!"

Fydra at this point scooted back, she could smell the alcohol on her father and the hairs on the back of her neck rose, she had never seen him this frightened in her life. She tried to become one with the wall, trying to be invisible.

Sandra stuttered, "Wh-what's following us?"

"The goddess damned demon! That's who!" He rushed off to the windows, shutting each panel, then pulling up a kitchen chair and propping it against the door. He spun around, "No one leaves tonight!" his eyes wild.

Sandra looked exasperated, "Will, don't you think you are over reacting?"

"No! I _saw him._ He is out there right now!"

Fydra blinked, _'Oni is outside?'_ She doubted it, and even she realized that his hysteria probably stemmed from the alcohol. She shook her daze and quickly shifted a particular drawing to the bottom of her stack of papers. A drawing of a tall warrior with red and blue face markings.

William pointed a finger at his wife, "I _told _you we needed to get rid of him! And now he's after us! And you didn't believe me!"

Sandra's face tightened, "So this is _my _fault? You are not making any sense! Just relax and head to bed with me." She ended soothingly.

William didn't seem convinced.

Her mother slowly rested her hand on his cheek, he wanted to flinch away, but didn't. "You're safe." She said simply.

William was breathing heavily and some intelligence returned to his eyes. Fydra still didn't ease.

The carpenter ran a hand through his brown hair, "I can't take this crap anymore." His voice tired. Fydra eyed him, and felt a stab of worry for him. He was her father after all. But she also knew his fears were unfound.

She met Oni on her own. And knew the massive man wouldn't do anything her father suggested.

She jolted out of her thoughts when she felt a hand on her head, she glanced up to see her father looking down sadly, his other arm protectively holding on to his wife. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you both." In his eyes, he cared. He actually cared for her well being. It warmed Fydra inside.

His eyes then hardened and huffed to the side. "It's this damn demon. Making me paranoid."

Fydra swallowed.

He looked back between his wife and child with warm eyes. "I'll never let him near you two. Never let his demonic influence here. I'll do everything I can to protect you both." Then he kissed his wife. Fydra turned and blushed

When the kiss ended, Sandra was miffed, "Where is this coming from, love?"

The carpenter released them both, and headed to the bedroom, "Oh nothing, just sorta'… know what to fight for is all."

And with that, he disappeared into his room. And a terrifying realization hit Fydra. Her secret wasn't going to last forever, and her father will always hate everything about the 'demon'. And he would _never _forgive her.

Which left her with a choice, a choice she immediately pushed to the back of her mind. She couldn't answer it, not yet. Hopefully she'll never have to. But it was there, and it was bothersome.

'_Abandon Oni and keep the love of my father? Or do what I feel is right?'_

_**Author's note:**_

_**Sorry for the slow update, I had scholarly things to attend. Doing good stuff, promise. But the next chapter I hope will be out before I go back. Soo… maybe in a week? Don't hold a knife to me on that. But you are welcome to bug me about it. **_

_**And William, eh? A decent father is buried under all that hard grime. **_

_**Leave your thoughts, theories, critiques, in a review, yo. **_

_**~BlueIrish**_

_***Guitar solos into space on a metal Rainbow* **_


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